It's a dog's life...

First off, for those worried about the chicks, I have positive news...I think. I hope. People at the hide reported late today that they think they had seen the chicks up and flying along the south side of the loch. At least one adult was also in the area. I'm sure they're right. The sat tag signals are just too weak at the moment as the poor weather and thick cloud has obscured the tiny sat tag's solar panel and the batteries are too low - so no signal. I was up there late afternoon and despite constant searching and scanning, I could not find them anywhere. But let's hope the earlier sightings were accurate and all is well. The weather has calmed down, the winds have dropped and it's a beautiful Mull evening with a sunset over Salen bay as I write.

Whilst searching in one remote part of the area at a favourite sea eagle roost area, I heard a strange noise. Then silence. A few minutes later there it was again. I strained my ears to hear where it was coming from. Maybe it was just the trees creaking in the wind. Silence again. Then, just as I was recording a piece to camera for Autumnwatch on the whereabouts of the eagle chicks, I heard it again. I waited, heard it again and moved closer. Closer still. I was now standing above this strange, desperate whimpering cry. I peered down into the jungle of massive felled tree trunks, branches and brambles and there were the sad eyes and very muddy nose of a strange animal, trapped, squeezed into a rocky crevice. It whined again. It was a dog! As we discovered each other, the whining went into overdrive and so did my pulse. I tried to calm it and think fast as to whose dog it was and how to rescue it. I knew the farm a few miles away had Jack Russells; a quick call to them confirmed that their precious Bonnie had been missing since last Tuesday - a week ago! They had been searching for her ever since, on foot, on horse back and by car. I could not lift the vast tree trunks and rocks myself and they rushed to the scene. With crow bar and frantic digging, we finally brought Bonnie to the surface. She was blackened with mud, soaking wet from the torrential rain and very thin - she'd clearly never caught the rabbit she'd entered this deadly maze for. As her owners held her tight and she quivered uncontrollably with delight at being back with her family, we all shed a tear or two and reflected on the chances of me stopping at that particular spot in this huge area and pausing long enough to search for the eagles and to hear her weak cries. She was a very long way from anywhere. Just a few more days alone in the cold and wet and with no food and it might have been a very different ending. So, thank you fate; and thank you eaglets. I might be able to find lost dogs. Now I've just got to get better at finding lost eaglets. Maybe tomorrow.

Dave Sexton  RSPCA, I mean RSPB Mull Officer